


Sneaking In

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Post Bartlett Administration, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-30
Updated: 2009-11-30
Packaged: 2019-05-15 04:02:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14783244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Josh and Donna after a long day.





	Sneaking In

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

Title: Sneaking In 1/1   
Summary: Josh and Donna after a long day  
Disclaimers: Not mine. Not at all.  
Feedback: please  
Spoliers: After Season 7

 

I hear his key in the lock. He tries to be so quiet, but really he hasn’t got a clue how to sneak in. He doesn’t know enough to hold the latch when he closes the door, and growing up in that big house he never learned to take his shoes off right at the entrance, because as any teenage girl knows, there’s no way you can tiptoe in a hard leather sole. And maybe there were no squeaky floors at his parent’s house, or maybe it’s just by the time he was old enough he had no older sister to point out the noisy bits, and practice with after school, while the house was still empty.

Anyway... he’s doing his best, but it doesn’t matter, ‘cause I’m still awake. I’ve been in bed since ten, like I promised both him and my OB/GYN, but I watched the vote first, and since then I’ve just been lying here, sort of asleep, sort of awake. The idea is if I actually get enough rest now I’ll make it through the last trimester which is going to include the midterms, Thanksgiving and Christmas without totally collapsing from exhaustion. 

But this is something to wait up for. This is the kind of stuff I miss out on in the East Wing. I want to hear how it went. I want to see how pumped he is… and I want to tell him about my day.

He creeps around to my side of the bed and crouches down so he’s at eye level. I can just see him in the street light coming through the blinds. 

“Hey.” He says quietly, “Are you still awake?”

I open my eyes wide. “I am now.” I tease. 

“We won!” he grins, and he leans in and kisses me on the forehead. 

“I saw.” I wrinkle my nose. “You stink.”

His eyes are glittery in the half light, and his smile broadens. “Yeah. I know. We had scotch and cigars out on the portico afterwards.”

I close my eyes and have an image of Amy, leaning against one of those white columns with a cigar in her hand. A slim and svelte Amy, and I nearly have to shake my head to get rid of the image. 

“All of you?” I say.

“Yeah” he says offhandedly and my picture broadens to include Sam, and the President, with Lou and Bram and Otto. “A bunch of them are still there, but the President went to the residence, and I really wanted to come home and be with you.”

He kisses me again, like he knows what I had pictured, then says, “I’m going to have a shower, can you stay awake that long?”

I yawn. “Probably.”

*************************

He slides into bed behind me, and cuddles up close. He’s still a little damp and chilly, but when he kisses me on the back of my shoulder his lips are so warm I fell like there will be a brand there. He’s so full of what they’ve accomplished he can’t stop talking about it.

“Finally,” he gloats. “We finally got this education package through, and before the midterms…”

I just can’t help pouring a little cold water on it, “Well, with a democratic house it makes things a little easier don’t you think?”

“Hey… this was tough” he whines, “We worked hard, and it’s taken the better part of the year to get them all corralled.”

“Sam did good.” I say smiling, ‘cause I know he can’t see.

“Hey. What about me?” he says in his best seven year old impression. “I did good too!”

“Yes you did.” I say to mollify him, and then I wait.  
He rambles on about which Members of Congress caused them the most trouble like I don’t already know that it was Rankin, Feibings, and Hollister. Like I haven’t been listening to him rant about them for the last six months. And when he finally starts to wind down, and there are gaps in between the diatribe, in fact gaps large enough I’m afraid he’s falling asleep, I say, “Aren’t you going to ask me about my exciting day?”

“Couldn’t possibly be as exciting as mine.” He mumbles into my hair and the back of my neck.

“Hmm. Maybe not.” 

I take his hand and place it flat on my ever increasing belly, just beside my navel, and push lightly. Sure enough the same thing happens that’s been happening all evening whenever I press right there. He jumps like he’s just had a jolt of electricity, which I guess, in a way, he kind of has.

“Holy…!! Is that what I think it is?”

“That, I believe, is your daughter, telling you to be quiet and go to sleep,” I say as I roll over to face him. 

But I can tell by the look in his eyes that sleep is now a long way away.

 

End


End file.
